


In the Night We Trust

by Recourse



Series: Perennials [3]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, F/F, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Mild Sexual Content, No Mark Jefferson, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: Taylor and Victoria always find each other in the night. Each time, Taylor approaches her, closer and closer, but never quite making contact.(A side-story forBloom.)





	In the Night We Trust

Taylor nearly falls into the punchbowl as a small, mousy-haired girl rushes behind her, muttering “sorry” to everyone she bumps into along the way. Taylor watches her go, since it’s pretty much the only interesting thing that’s happened all night. Some boys tried to dance with her. She tried dancing with them. Got bored. Felt weird. Punch bowl is more interesting. It burns when she drinks it.

“God, what a freakshow,” someone says behind her. She turns around and spots a girl, tall with a blonde pixie cut and designer clothes. Taylor’s seen her around, they live in the same dorms.

“That girl or this whole party?” Taylor replies. Shit, Taylor, don’t _do_ that. This is why everyone avoided you back home, you can’t not be a bitch for _one second—_

The girl smirks. “Specifically the girl, but I like where you’re going with that.” She gestures and Taylor moves out of her way so she can grab a drink. “Honestly this has been a shitshow from the start. Fuckin’ Rachel had to bring her back into the VIP section and everyone got all _weird._ ”

“Sounds rough,” Taylor says with a shrug. “I’ve been stuck back here with these losers all night.” She sweeps her hand over the dancing crowd.

“You’re new, right?” the girl asks, cocking her head.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to find someone worth hanging with at this thing. But I think all the guys here are just shitheads.” Taylor pauses, remembering her old school. “Or maybe guys in general are just shitheads.”

The other girl snorts. “Can’t say I’m disagreeing.” She fishes in her bag for a second, then lets out a, “Fuck.” She turns to Taylor with a sigh. “You got a cigarette?”

Taylor pats her back pocket. “Plenty.”

“C’mon, let’s ditch for a while.” The girl turns and beckons, and expects to be followed. So Taylor does.

She leads them out of the gym and into the warm August night, pressing her back up against the wall once they’re clear enough of the doors for her taste. As Taylor digs out her pack, the girl says, “Didn’t get your name.”

“Taylor,” Taylor says simply as she hands her a cigarette, then takes one for herself.

“Victoria,” the other girl replies. Her eyes narrow suddenly, and Taylor follows her gaze, spotting the objects of her ire. A pretty, long-haired blonde girl walks the short, awkward one from earlier away from the gym, towards the dorms. “Ugh,” Victoria grunts.

“I take it that’s Rachel?” Taylor asks.

“Yep, that’s the bitch herself. Thinks she’s so cool.” Victoria’s whole face has soured somewhat. Taylor watches her light the cigarette, the flame throwing her sharp cheekbones into relief. God, this would be a good shot. Taylor’s seen Victoria in photography class, but they haven’t gotten any real assignments yet. Taylor wonders if Victoria would model for her, if she asked. She looks like a statue.

Taylor realizes she’s staring and quickly fumbles for her lighter, clearing her throat and leaning against the wall beside Victoria. God, Taylor. Be slightly less you for a minute.

“At least she’s leaving,” Victoria sighs. “Almost feel bad for that other girl.”

“Why?” Taylor asks.

“Rachel uses people up and spits them out,” Victoria says, her voice low and shaky. “But she deserves it if she’s hanging around her. All you need to do is pay attention and you’ll know.”

Taylor studies her face again as she takes a drag. “Whatever,” Victoria says suddenly, blowing out smoke. “Maybe now that she’s gone the VIP section won’t be so lame. Wanna come back with me?”

Taylor’s eyes widen. “Oh! Uh — yeah, I mean, totally,” she stammers. Holy crap, someone’s actually inviting her somewhere?

Victoria finishes her cigarette and grinds it out under her heel. “Cool. Let’s get more drinks. I wanna forget about some shit.”

And Taylor follows.

 

* * *

 

“Here, you take her home,” Nathan (that’s his name, right?) grunts at Taylor, shoving Victoria off of his chest and in Taylor’s general direction. He frowns down at his phone as Victoria twirls, landing with her hands on Taylor’s shoulders.

There’s a moment where she lingers there, head hung and staring down at Taylor’s shoes. The streetlight above them makes her blonde hair glow. She puts a hand over her mouth, like she’s gonna throw up, but she doesn’t.

“God dammit,” Nathan hisses. “Seeya later — Taylor, right? Vic, be careful.”

“I _am_ ,” Victoria insists, bringing her head up and flipping back some of her sweaty hair. “Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Nathan says with a shrug. “I really gotta deal with this. Bowers drama.”

“Fine, whatever,” Victoria huffs. “Night, Nate.”

As Nathan heads off to God-knows-where, far from the dorms, Victoria tries to right herself. She ends up with an arm around Taylor’s shoulders instead, walking like she’s carrying a load on her back.

“God, even Nathan tonight,” Victoria mutters as Taylor tentatively starts heading for the dorms. “Tries to make a move on Rachel’s little project and gets all mopey when she leaves.” She hiccups. “‘Sposed to be _my_ friend.”

Taylor’s not sure what to say. She just met this girl. But it does seem kinda screwed up the way Victoria kept trying to talk to him, and he’d be looking at his phone or trying to hit on some other girl.

“Ah well,” Victoria muses as they take the steps up to the dorm entrance, carefully, one at a time. “Still better than I thought it was gonna be when it started.”

“Yeah, it was.” Taylor can agree on that, at least. Victoria may be a bitch, but she’s a pretty funny one, and when she’s drunk she gets _loud_ and she has a fantastic cackle. Dana back there was pretty okay, too. Courtney seemed a little weak-willed to Taylor, but she didn’t ruin anyone’s good time by any means. This...might actually be an okay place for Taylor to plant her flag.

They make their way to Victoria’s room near the end of the hall, Victoria remaining silent until she gets off Taylor and fumbles with her keys. “ _Hey,_ ” she slurs once she’s got the door open, leaning in the doorway. “You shoooould gimme your number.”

“My—”

“You were like, actually chill all night instead of being weird and lame for no reason,” Victoria continues. “You’re totally VC material.”

Taylor steps back, like she’s about to step into a trap. “Really?”

“ _Yes!”_ Victoria sounds irritated. “C’mon, bitch, I’m trying to get you into the coolest club in this shit-ass school. So give. Me. Your. Number.” She digs her phone out of her bag and looks expectantly at Taylor.

Taylor blinks a few times, then rapidly recites her digits. “Dope,” Victoria says, popping the _p_ on the end of the word. “Tomorrow we’ll...do something about your outfit.” Victoria gestures vaguely in Taylor’s direction. “But you’re hot. I’ll make you look smokin’.” Victoria giggles to herself as she wobbles into her room. “Later, Taylor.”

Taylor heads back to her own dorm and sits down on the edge of her bed, then lays flat across it. She didn’t expect this. Hadn’t even hoped for it, really. Just figured she would make a token effort, find no friends, and spend the rest of her year at Blackwell the same way she spent the last three back home. Do schoolwork, find ways to not be bored in the offtime, alone. And now…

Now she’s drunk. And a little high. And feeling okay.

She keeps thinking of Victoria’s face, illuminated by her cigarette, marble features thrown into relief in black and orange.

 

* * *

 

“You have nice legs,” Victoria says sharply. “That means shorter shorts.”

Taylor nods. She’s been shot down enough times for even _looking_ uncertain about the outfits that Victoria’s been piling up that she’s learned to just accept it. She takes the shorts from Victoria’s hands and steps into the fitting room again.

She always hated going shopping before. It was something she did on her own, and it was always just “find something that will cover me and roughly fits.” She didn’t care how she looked, because nobody else ever seemed to. It worked. It was functional.

Victoria being here changes everything. One, she’s bankrolling this whole trip. Two, Victoria’s...taking charge. And she knows her shit.

And three, every time Taylor steps out, she feels Victoria’s eyes sweeping up and down her body, appraising her. She keeps saying things. Like “you have nice legs.” It’s always about framing what she has, what Victoria thinks looks good. Taylor doesn’t know why that matters. But it really does.

When she comes out this time, Victoria purses her lips. “Yeah. Good.” She glances back to their full shopping cart. “Should be enough of a wardrobe for now. Go ahead and change back.”

Taylor doesn’t watch the numbers go up at the checkout counter. She stares at her (old, boring, unfashionable) shoes instead. This feels like so much. They just met. She should say something.

“Thanks, Victoria,” she says quietly as they leave the store.

“Pfft. What are you talking about? This isn’t charity, this is for me,” Victoria replies off-handedly. “If I’m gonna put someone in the Club I gotta make them presentable. That’s just common sense. I mean, you were fine last night, but I have a reputation to maintain.”

Taylor isn’t sure whether to be flattered or not. “...thanks anyway,” is what she settles on saying, because she should be nice, and she doesn’t want Victoria to suddenly lose interest.

“You’re welcome. Let’s get coffee. Hangover’s trying to come back again,” Victoria says, walking out to where she parked her car. “But that bitch has no control over me.”

 

* * *

 

Taylor doesn’t think much of anything when Victoria bumps the little hipster girl on her way out of Photography. She’s gotten used to these little displays of power that Victoria puts on; they’re never directed at Taylor, so she can just tactically ignore them, or join in if Victoria shoots her that  “I need backup” look.

But she does feel bad when Max’s camera slips out of her bag and smashes against the hallway floor. She’s glad she’s heading in the opposite direction as Nathan and Victoria as they taunt her about it. She doesn’t have to join in this time.

She doesn’t think it matters until the next morning. As she’s heading to the showers, she spies Rachel walking out, a grim look on her face. She flashes a diplomatic smile at Taylor once they make eye contact, but her body language is still stiff and militaristic as she marches down the hall.

Right before Taylor actually enters the showers, she hears a distinct _thud._ Victoria bursts out through the door a second later, her breath shaking. Taylor’s on alert.

“Victoria?” she asks carefully.

“I’m fine,” Victoria snaps.

But Taylor follows her back to her room anyway. Victoria doesn’t stop her.

“Close the door,” is all she says.

Taylor does as she asks, and Victoria puts her hands on her desk, breathing shallow.

“...are you okay?” Taylor asks. She shows she shouldn’t. That’s not the kind of friends they are. If Taylor even knows how to have friends. But it feels like the right thing to do even if it’s the wrong thing to do, if that makes sense.

Victoria’s been bad before. At parties. She’ll withdraw into the alcohol, get bitter and angry like when they first met. Taylor never asked then. Victoria wouldn’t have answered, and Taylor always feels like there’s something about to snap between them. If Taylor does something that reaches too far, she’ll be rejected. She has to keep it light. Just be there.

But here she is. Offering.

Victoria looks at her then, really looks at her. Her eyes aren’t narrowed in a glare. She looks like she does when she talks to Nathan, on his good days.

“It’s just Rachel,” she says. It’s never ‘just Rachel.’ Taylor knows this by now, but she won’t push. “She got all high-and-mighty about yesterday with Max.”

“So? Who cares, she’s barely even around anymore,” Taylor says.

“But I can’t _do_ anything to her. She just…” Victoria seethes, sucking air through her teeth. “She can just do whatever she wants and I can’t touch her. Never fucking could.”

“Couldn’t you kick her out of the Club?” Taylor suggests.

“Not with Nathan drooling over her all the time. I’d tank my whole rep.” Victoria leans against her desk, deflated. “I — I fucking _hate_ her.”

“Why does she get to you so much?” Taylor asks.

“She’s a bitch, what else do you need?” Victoria snaps, and Taylor takes a step back. She hadn’t realized she’d been getting closer to Victoria the whole time. “Besides. She _doesn’t._ Get to me.” She opens her desk drawer and draws out a pack of cigarettes. “Just haven’t had a smoke this morning and I’m getting bitchy too. No big deal.”

“Sure. Can I have one?”

“Duh.”

They blow smoke out the window in silence, watching the morning go by. Victoria eventually sighs and mutters something about homework. She doesn’t ask Taylor to leave, and so she doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

Taylor stands at the sink in the shower room, pulling threads out of her hair.

It’s automatic. Impulsive. Every time she thinks about what she read in that text this morning, pull. The tinges of pain bring regularity. When they’re wet it’s easier. She’s taken a lot of late-night showers in the past week.

She closes her eyes. Pull. Snap. Again. _Again._ Until the boiling in her stomach subsides. Five minutes. Maybe more.

The door to the showers eases open behind her, and she freezes, a strand still caught between two fingers. She can’t breathe. Her lungs constrict in her chest as she watches the mirror.

Victoria comes into view behind her, looking around the floor where small dirty-blonde fibers lay in criss-crosses.

“You have good hair,” Victoria says softly, taking hold of Taylor’s hand and sliding it down until she’s dropped the strand. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Taylor’s breath releases. “Okay,” she murmurs.

“Come on.” Victoria takes her hand and leads her out, back to Victoria’s room. She closes the door behind her as Taylor stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. Victoria flows around her, opening the window, turning the fan on, producing a pipe from her desk, loading the bowl.

“Sit down,” Victoria orders.

Taylor sits down. She runs her fingers through her hair until Victoria shoots her a look, and then she stops. Victoria takes the first hit, then passes to Taylor without a word.

The smoke curls in her lungs, fills her up. She releases a smoke cloud into the room, closes her eyes. Breathes in and out.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Victoria asks after Taylor passes back.

“It’s my problem. Don’t worry about it, V. You have enough to deal with,” Taylor says, knowing her voice is shaking. But this really is Taylor’s issue, and there’s nothing she can do about it, anyway. Victoria shouldn’t have found her. Taylor shouldn’t like it that she did.

“Just spill it,” Victoria commands.

“It’s no—”

“ _Taylor._ ”

Victoria’s look could cut diamonds.

Taylor looks down at her hands. “It’s my mom,” she says softly. “She’s had...had these spinal problems for years, and ever since I left they’ve been getting worse. She could end up paralyzed.”

“Shit,” Victoria says.

“She’s getting surgery next weekend. If—if there’s a complication…” Taylor shudders. “I won’t be there.”

“Where did you say you were from?” Victoria asks.

“Sh-Sherwood. Up near Portland.”

“There’s a place I’ve been wanting to try in Portland. You can ride with me. I’ll drop you off.”

Taylor looks up and blinks at Victoria. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. No big deal. Been looking for an excuse to get out of this shit-ass town anyway.” Victoria takes another hit.

Taylor wants to hug her. Never let her go. Tell her how much this means.

But that’s not how they are. All she can say is a quiet “Thank you.”

“Anytime, T.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh my God, look at Kate.”

Taylor follows Victoria’s pointing finger across the dancefloor and spots the girl in question, her hair fallen out of its usual bun, a blonde stringy mass over her shoulders. She wavers on her feet.

“She’s totally fucking wasted,” Victoria says with a giggle. She pulls her phone from her purse. “Holy shit.”

Taylor laughs too, because this _is_ funny. The leader of the Abstinence Club, alone and smashed at a Vortex Club party. She doesn’t share Victoria’s sneering distaste for the girl, but it’s quite an image to behold.

It’s not until the first boy grabs hold of her that Taylor starts to worry. Victoria’s staring, open-mouthed, as he takes Kate and kisses her, biting her lip, his hand clenched on the back of her neck. He laughs, throws her to his buddies. She’s unsteady on her feet. The lights reflect in her foggy eyes. Victoria’s stopped laughing. Taylor’s not sure what to do.

Then, like a flash, Rachel appears in front of them. “What the fuck, Victoria?!” she screams over the music. “What are you _doing?_ ”

“Uh,” Victoria says, clearly getting ready to deliver a trademark verbal assault, but before she can even let loose the opening salvo Rachel rips the phone out of her hands and throws it against the wall behind her.

“What the _fuck_ , Rachel—”

But Rachel’s not even listening anymore, she’s whirled around and marched across the floor and grabbed Kate by the arm. She tugs her out of the boys’ grasp and runs off with her, out of sight, out of this loud space.

Victoria looks downright shocked. She looks around and finds her phone, the casing completely shattered, pieces lying on the ground. Taylor bends down to see her wipe at her eyes.

“Piece of _shit,_ ” she hisses.

“What was all that?” Taylor asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t _fucking_ know.” Victoria takes what she can and stuffs it in her bag, then looks around at the party. She puts a hand to her forehead. “Fuck,” comes out of her like a sob. She looks around. “Where the hell is Nathan?”

“Saw him earlier in the VIP section,” Taylor mumbles.

“Y-you know what, the fuck ever. Come on.” Victoria grabs Taylor’s upper arm like a vicegrip. She drags Taylor out of the building, into the night, her free hand shaking as she reaches into her bag and grabs a pack of cigarettes.

It’s almost become a ritual at this point. Taylor and Victoria alone, smoking, and silence. Taylor pretends to not see the tears welling in Victoria’s eyes. She stays close, their shoulders touching against the wall. Victoria needs to breathe. Like she often does.

“I deserved it,” Victoria mutters.

“What? V—”

“I was taping her. Something was fucked and we knew it. But I kept doing it.”

“Hey, it was just — do you think it was serious?”

“I’ve never seen Rachel care that much about anything.” Victoria’s voice fades out.

“Kate really could’ve just been drunk and letting loose,” Taylor says cautiously. “Maybe Rachel took her away from something she wanted.”

“I don’t know,” Victoria mumbles. “I don’t know anything.”

Taylor shuts up. She’s not helping, she knows that now. She just leans further into Victoria’s side, watching her regain herself.

Taylor wonders where Nathan is. He’ll usually take care of Victoria, take her off her hands once he knows something’s up. But not all the time, these days. Not even often, come to think of it. He’s always out looking for some hookup, finding some random trashed girl to spend the night with. Taylor wonders how long Victoria’s been relying on him.

Victoria suddenly stands up from the wall. “This place blows,” she says, stalking off towards the community center parking lot. Taylor jogs to catch up.

Victoria gets into her car as a beat-up truck pulls out of the lot, tires squealing. As Taylor climbs into the passenger seat (because she knows Victoria expects her there) she sees Victoria light another cigarette.

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Taylor asks gently.

“Not yet. But it’s better in here.”

Victoria rolls down their windows and then puts her seat back, laying down and staring up through the sunroof. Taylor joins her a second later, sharing another cigarette, looking at the stars. She listens to Victoria breathe.

The next thing she knows, Victoria’s shaking her by the shoulder. “Hey, come on, wake up.”

“Mnn?”

“I drove us back. Come on.”

Taylor blinks the sleep out of her eyes and groggily notices that the seatbelt’s been fastened over her chest. She unbuckles herself as Victoria gets out.

“Movie?” Victoria asks as they head across the darkened campus. “Got some shit stashed in my room.”

Taylor doesn’t want the night to end. She says “Sure,” and Victoria’s posture relaxes. Something to take their mind off what they saw sounds ideal.

“Good. Goddamn, I need a drink.”

Taylor stops off in her own room for a minute to change into pajamas. When she knocks on Victoria’s door, she hears a soft “Come in,” and enters to see Victoria digging a DVD case out of a box in her closet, along with a handle of something orange.

“What’s that?” Taylor asks as she sits down on the couch.

“A fucking masterpiece, that’s what,” Victoria proclaims. Taylor catches a glimpse of the case. _Ghost in the Shell_ is the title, over a picture of a rather naked anime girl.

Taylor’s seen the figures hidden away in corners of Victoria’s room, but never asked about them. She can’t help but smile. “Really?”

“Taylor.” Victoria has a warning tone. “You’re watching this with me. Right now.”

Taylor suppresses a giggle. Victoria can be such a _dork._ It’s nice knowing that she gets to see this side of her, even after a night like this.

Victoria flumps down beside her, still giving her that ‘don’t you dare’ glare, but she passes the bottle to Taylor regardless.

Taylor has no idea what’s going on. Maybe it’s because they keep trading swigs of whatever this crap is (it tastes like cinnamon gum and _burns_ on the way down, but Taylor still takes it every time it comes back to her) or maybe it’s because this movie is incomprehensible gibberish. But Victoria’s having fun, at least. Taylor can see her mouth some of the lines, feel her tense up beside her when something tense is about to happen. Victoria must know this movie like the back of her hand.

Victoria ends up leaning almost all the way over on Taylor’s shoulder, and Taylor’s nearly horizontal herself. She closes her eyes as the credits roll over the screen, feeling Victoria’s weight.

“Mmmgood movie,” Victoria slurs. “Right?”

Taylor shrugs. It was okay. “It was pretty.”

“Mhm.” Victoria turns over, nestling her face into Taylor’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Taylor has to do a double-take. She’s not sure she’s ever heard that word leave Victoria’s mouth before. “For what?” she asks, her voice shaking.

“You came back with me even though you coulda just stayed there ‘n had fun.” Victoria sighs.

“I’d rather hang out with you than the rest of those losers,” Taylor assures her.

“Pfft. Bullshit. You’re just worried I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Victoria’s mumbling now, her eyes squeezed shut. “You don’t actually like me.”

Taylor’s chest compresses. “Of course I like you,” she says, keeping her voice at a whisper. “You’re _good,_ Victoria, you’ve been so good to me. Sogood,” she repeats, her words blurring together.

Victoria makes a muffled whining noise into Taylor’s shoulder. “I didn’t _do_ anything—”

“You’re the best friend I ever had,” Taylor interrupts, because Victoria should know this. “Back home I was all alone most of the time, and now — you just, you picked me up, you put me in VC, you took me back home, you’re so _good_ ,” she mumbles. “I like you a lot.”

“You’re sweet, T,” Victoria murmurs. She suddenly starts giggling. “Sweet T! That’s you!”

Taylor laughs with her, drunk on candy whiskey and the smell of Victoria’s shampoo right up against her nose. She has such nice products. She always smells so good, even if sweat’s wiped away most of her perfume by now.

Victoria lifts herself for a moment. Their eyes meet in the glow from the DVD menu.

And Taylor wants to kiss her.

Her stomach ties itself in a knot as she stares at Victoria’s lips. Her cheekbones. Her entire goddamn model-worthy face. Familiar goosebumps rise on Taylor’s skin, sending her back to her first photo project with Victoria, watching her stretch herself across this very couch in the golden light of sunset.

She’s stopped breathing. The moment lasts too long. Victoria looks away.

“Should...should probably go to bed,” she says, her voice low. “Been a long night.”

Taylor takes in a sharp breath. “Y-yeah. Sure.”

Victoria pulls herself off of Taylor and lets her stand.

“Thanks for coming back with me,” Victoria says as Taylor opens the door to let herself out.

“Yeah. Anytime.” And Taylor flees.

She power-walks down the hall until she gets to her dorm. She paces the length of her room, heart racing. She scratches angry red marks into her wrists.

It was nothing, Taylor. It was just an intimate moment. It doesn’t mean anything. People feel like that all the time, right? With close friends? She’s never had any, so she just...is making a big deal out of nothing. She does that. She has pills for it. It’s just how she is.

She still doesn’t sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

It’s the last party before Thanksgiving Break starts, and Victoria and Taylor are hanging in the VIP section, stretched across the couch because the rest of the crew went to do a bump in the bathroom. Victoria said she was good, so Taylor stayed too.

They’re both smashed, but Victoria’s a happier drunk these days. Ever since Rachel stopped showing up at these things, she’s been more relaxed. Less need for Nathan to calm her down, or for her to escape outside with Taylor. She lies on Taylor’s lap, smiling wide, her eyes closed, and she’s beautiful.

The music’s faded to a dull roar outside the VIP section, and Taylor’s taking the moment to relax, too. Looking at Victoria is the opposite of relaxing, as is feeling her body on top of her own, so Taylor’s leaning back and looking at the ceiling instead, watching colored lights flash across it.

“Mgonna miss you,” Victoria slurs out of the side of her mouth.

“Huh?” Taylor asks.

“Break. When you go home. ‘M staying on campus. Gonna suck.”

“Why aren’t you going home?”

“Home sucks.”

Taylor reaches out, tentatively stroking Victoria’s hair. She’s heard hints. Nothing concrete. But she knows the Chases aren’t good to their daughter. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“Why? ‘Snot your fault. Never is.” Victoria’s eyes flutter open and they make contact again. Like in Victoria’s room. Taylor’s fingers tingle as they run through blonde. She should stop, but she doesn’t want to.

Victoria reaches up, hooking an arm around Taylor’s neck to pull herself to eye level. Taylor automatically grabs Victoria’s waist to steady her.

Taylor’s caught in headlights. Victoria’s eyes are clouded but they are filled with intentions. Before Taylor’s ready, before she can think, Victoria’s kissing her.

It’s sloppy.

It’s _good._

Taylor’s short of breath in seconds, trying to breathe through her nose like people say you should, because she doesn’t want to break this contact, doesn’t want to stop, her whole body’s warm. Something tells her she should not do this, should pull away. This shouldn’t happen.

“Damn, Vic, get some!” someone hollers, and Taylor’s world suddenly spins. Victoria’s pushed her back, and she’s laughing now, why is she laughing?

“This bitch is _so_ wasted,” Victoria sneers. Taylor’s gut freezes as Taylor separates herself. “Seriously, Tay, watch your drinks for once, I can’t always be your little lesbian outlet.”

Nathan sniggers as he approaches — was that who yelled? — and flops down beside Victoria, pipe in hand.

Taylor tries to go along with it. She smiles as wide and as drunk as she can and shrugs. “Nothing wrong with it,” she slurs. Gotta keep cool.

Nathan snorts. “Sure, long as it’s girl-on-girl and I can watch.”

Victoria stares at the wall. Looking past Nathan, looking past Taylor.

The rest of the crew comes back from the bathroom, and everything’s normal.

It’s all fine.

 

* * *

 

Victoria doesn’t text Taylor at all over the break.

Taylor brushes her gums bloody two nights in a row.

 

* * *

 

Max walks ahead of Victoria and Taylor as people leave the main hall for lunch, looking nervously excited. She looks around like a prairie dog, occasionally hopping up over the crowd to look at some point in the distance.

“What’s Caulfield’s deal?” Taylor asks, trying to edge Victoria into one of her rants so that at least they can bitch together.

“Who knows. Probably looking for Rachel,” Victoria says with a sort of aggressive shrug.

But as the crowd thins, Max breaks out of it and dashes across the quad. Taylor’s eyes map her trajectory and note that she’s heading straight for a tall girl in a leather jacket and beanie, someone she’s seen around the dorms every once in a while but never talked to. Max jumps up into her arms like she’s spring-loaded. And then…

Wow.

Taylor never figured Max for the PDA type, but they are just making the hell out right there in the parking lot.

Victoria stiffens beside Taylor, her face twisting into a knot. “Ugh. Figures she’s a dyke,” she spits. “And of course it’d be with that fucking dropout loser. You know Rachel and her were fucking, right?”

That’s a lot of information for Taylor to process at once. “Uh, no?” Taylor says. “What’s the big deal, anyway? They look happy.” She watches as Max slides down her girlfriend's front, giving her one last peck before they join hands and head for a somewhat familiar shitty truck.

“It’s fucking gross.” Victoria turns away, stalking towards the dorms. “What else do you need?”

Taylor has no answer other than the sinkhole forming in her chest. She follows Victoria, and says nothing more.

 

* * *

 

 

Rachel’s back.

She’s more engaged than she’s ever been; she flits from person to person in the dark of the dancefloor, like a bird that can’t decide where to rest. Victoria watches her all night, a glare across her features. She doesn’t take Taylor with her when she goes out for a smoke break. Not anymore.

Taylor tries to get back somewhere normal. She dances with Courtney and Nathan and Hayden. She drinks when people say to drink, takes pipes when they’re passed. Rachel dominates, though her eyes are red and her smile falters when she thinks no one’s looking.

Victoria comes back in, slaps Rachel away when she comes too close. She does line after line in the bathroom while Taylor watches the door. She doesn’t talk, not one word. The anger’s written all over her body language, scorched into the tense lines in her neck.

Taylor wants to tell her they can get out of here. Go to Victoria’s dorm. Watch one of her dorky movies. But Victoria doesn’t want her anymore, if she ever did.

When that thought strikes her, she’s in the middle of the dancefloor. She runs to the bathroom.

By the time she’s finished crying, Victoria’s nowhere to be seen. Neither is Rachel.

Taylor can’t take this anymore. She needs something. Anything.

She pulls out her phone.

**Me:**

_whered you go???_

It takes a long time to get a response. Taylor stands in the corner of the bathroom staring at her phone until it does.

**Victoria:**

_im fine_

**Me:**

_want me to come find you?_

**Victoria:**

_no_

_stay there have fun dont wrory abt me_

_it jsut sucks everythng just sucks im at home and im a fuckng mess no one should deal with_

_leave me alon_

**Me:**

_are you okay please tell me whats wrong_

**Victoria:** **  
**

_sweet t_

_im sorry_

_dont text me anymroe_

**Me:**

_v please_

The phone shakes in Taylor’s hands. Please what? Please be my friend again? Please don’t leave me alone?

Please love me?

Taylor’s eyes hurt so much. She numbs herself with alcohol.

She wakes up in the bathroom stall the next morning, clothes stained.

Victoria never responds.

 

* * *

 

Being back home for Christmas is okay.

She still finds herself staring at Victoria’s contact card in her phone, but most days, she can relax. Finals aren’t breathing down her neck anymore and she doesn’t have to see Victoria every day and feel that pain in her chest. She can stay with her mom and help her around the house, can watch TV with her like the old days.

It’s all right.

It’s fine.

But there’s still the silent nights where she wonders what she is. Where words come and go in her head and she’s not sure if they’re right. _Lesbian_ is always a dirty word, that’s what she knows, and yet. What else is there to be, for her? No straight girl would feel this way. No man has ever made Taylor stumble like this. Anyone can see it.

It’s during one of those nights that her phone rings. She grabs her phone from the nightstand, barely able to think who it could be. That familiar contact card is on the screen.

Taylor shakes, staring at it, thumb ready to swipe. This is it. This is when Victoria tells her to stay away next semester and get out of the Vortex Club and Taylor will be stuck alone again. She can’t hear it.

The line goes dead.

And then rings again.

Taylor’s sweating by now, but she answers. She holds the phone up to her ears and waits.

“Tay?” comes out of the other end, small and frightened. Victoria’s voice is hoarse.

“Yeah. Yeah, Victoria, I’m here.”

“Of course you are.” Victoria takes in a careful breath. “You always are and I’m so _shitty_ to you.”

“Victoria—”

“I’m sorry, I — I’m so sorry, Taylor, I’m drunk and ssstupid and my parents are fighting again and, and I tried to call Nathan but he didn’t pick up and I…” Victoria sniffs, and Taylor clutches the covers in her fist. “I can’t tell him about this anyway and I can’t, I can’t hide it anymore. My parents are one thing but this is — he’d never understand and it’s killing me.”

“You can’t hide—”

“I thought, I thought I could go back, I thought I could pretend I was normal but I’m _not_ , Taylor, I’m not and…” Victoria starts sobbing on the other end of the line. Taylor’s helpless. She plucks strands of hair out with her free hand, knees trembling under the blankets.

She clears her throat. “Victoria, I — you can tell me.” _Please tell me,_ Taylor begs in her mind. _Let me be here for you._

Victoria heaves in a deep breath. “I’m gay.”

Taylor’s body goes berserk. She can feel the anxiety like a spear in the gut, but her chest lifts, knowing what this must mean, she has to feel the same way, she _has_ to.

“And...and Rachel and I dated last year.”

Okay, anxiety’s winning. Taylor feels like she’s about to break the phone, she’s gripping so hard. “You...you did?”

“It—I wanted it to be a secret, and she didn’t, but she went along with it and I just — I couldn’t handle it or her, I got so jealous and awful and she kept blowing me off and it seemed like she didn’t even care about me unless we were fucking and I—” Victoria sobs again. “I didn’t want to be gay. I didn’t want to love her but I did and it was so bad but I still miss it and she...she tried to hook up with me and I almost said yes. I almost let her.”

“Why didn’t you?” Taylor asks, as carefully as she can.

“Because I was thinking about you all night.”

Taylor’s breath catches.

“I...I didn’t want…” Victoria grasps for the words. “Last time it...but you…”

Taylor can’t say anything. It’s too much, too real, it’s not just in her head.

“You actually like me and, and I got scared. I’m still scared. I don’t even know if you...if you feel…”

Taylor breathes, in, out, in, out. “I do,” she manages. “I t-think I have for a while.”

“And I treated you like shit,” Victoria groans. “I—I don’t deserve you, Tay, I don’t, but I...I still…” She swallows. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course,” Taylor says, automatically, because why would she ever say no?

“We—my parents, if they find out...I’m not what I’m supposed to be, I’m never good enough for them, I’m never gonna be good enough, but...if I can have you…”

“I don’t care if nobody else knows,” Taylor says, and that’s the honest truth. She and Victoria could hide away somewhere and she’d be happy. Her grip relaxes on the covers, on her phone. This is finally out in the open, and it’s...it’s okay. It didn’t blow up. “I...Victoria, I’ve been...for so long…”

“I know. I liked it. How it felt to...to know you wanted me like that.” Victoria’s breath is steadying, too. “When break’s over...let’s make this real. I want to see you again.”

“Me too.” Taylor lets herself smile. “Me too.”

She wants to say _I love you._ Because it’s how she felt, every time Victoria took her home to see her mom, every time they made off in the middle of a party for their own time, every time Victoria pulled her away from her anxiety attacks and just sat with her, listened to her. But she bites her tongue, for now. She’ll be able to say it, someday.

They stay on the line for hours. Victoria tells her everything. How she and Rachel got together, how they broke apart, how Rachel left town with Chloe last summer and came back a shell of her former self still struggling to keep up the act. How Victoria saw Max on her first day back and hated herself for wanting her, how she kept pushing against her to try and deny it. How Taylor made Victoria feel during that first party, when she stayed by her side all night. Taylor listens to it all.

 

* * *

 

 

Taylor sits fidgeting in her room, her boxes half-unpacked around her. Her phone shakes in her hands.

They’ve planned for this. As soon as Victoria gets home she’s supposed to come and see Taylor and they’ll...do something. Taylor’s not sure what. How do you start just...having a girlfriend? It’s never been something she thought could happen to her. And especially a _secret_ girlfriend, since Victoria doesn’t want the club or Nathan to know. Yet, anyway.

That part doesn’t matter to Taylor. Their closer moments were always alone. She prefers them that way. She thinks back to late-night anime with Victoria, and her shakes calm a little.

Her phone lights up.

 **Victoria:** **  
**

_I’d be inside already but Caulfield and Price are lezzing it up right in front of the fucking door_

_Like come on, get out of the way so I can get some of that, don’t be greedy bitches_

There’s a picture attached.

Taylor’s ears burn. Does she really want to move as fast as those two did? She thinks back to when they kissed, Victoria’s lips enveloping her, that arm like a vicegrip around her neck, the intensity of the moment. Is Victoria just that kind of person? Can Taylor even handle that?

The knock on the door nearly makes her jump off her bed, but she manages to get up without falling over and run to answer it. As she opens it, Victoria stands looking somewhat...unlike herself. Her pose is withdrawn, uncertain.

“Come in,” Taylor offers, and Victoria steps inside. She turns and closes the door behind her, and then there’s an awkward silence as she stares at her feet.

“So…” Victoria swallows. “This was easier when I didn’t have to look at you.”

Taylor’s stomach drops. “What—”

“Shit, sorry, I mean — I mean, are you sure? About keeping this a secret, I mean.” Victoria’s shaking, still staring down. “I—I know it’s not fair to you, and it doesn’t even make _sense_ with Caulfield being so goddamn public about it, but I’m just, I’m scared, and—”

“Yes! Yes, Victoria, it’s all right,” Taylor exclaims, stepping closer to her. “I always liked it when we were alone, just the two of us. I don’t need everyone to know. I don’t know if I want everyone to know about me, anyway.”

“Okay.” Victoria looks up at her now, hopeful, vulnerable. “So, um…”

Taylor’s not sure what the right move here is. They’re standing _really_ close to each other right now. They’ve never even hugged, just laid on each other when they’re tired or wasted or both, but that was always so nice.

She reaches out, tentatively, fingers ready to dart back if she senses a hint of rejection. Instead, Victoria practically falls into her arms, laying her head on Taylor’s shoulder. Her body slackens, her hands loosely gripping Taylor’s hips.

“Thank you,” Victoria whispers. “Being stuck at home, all break, and then not — not being sure you’d actually — I didn’t even know what I’d do or say the next time I saw you in person, but…”

Taylor holds her close, now that she finally can. “It’s all right,” she promises. “I’m here.”

 

* * *

 

There’s plenty of excuses for them to hang out alone. Once the Vortex party for the weekend is planned out, Victoria and Taylor spend all their time after class in Victoria’s room, “studying.” Which sometimes involves studying but more often involves cuddling on Victoria’s couch and watching anime, which isn’t the worst thing in the world. At all.

The first time they really kiss is Wednesday. They’re only slightly tipsy, and Taylor’s worried that she can’t kiss her _now_ , they should just be sober, but the movie’s over and they’re looking at each other. Victoria’s hand slides up and down Taylor’s thigh, a comforting motion, her breath shaking in her lungs.

“You...should probably go to bed…” Victoria’s voice is quiet, soft, a tone she reserves only for Taylor. When Taylor hears it, she knows that even Rachel didn’t get this from Victoria. It’s like as soon as they admitted what had been happening between them, it all fell into place.

Taylor wants to kiss her so badly. Victoria’s not moving, and Taylor can’t leave. Victoria wants it too, Taylor can see it in her eyes, and _someone_ has to make the first move, dammit. But how does she even…

She tries leaning in, and Victoria’s body jumps to complete the connection. Taylor puts a hand on the back of Victoria’s neck and it feels _right,_ and Victoria’s lips feel right too. The cinnamon mixes with her lipgloss and leaves Taylor with a stronger sweet tooth than ever.

It lasts only a moment. Victoria doesn’t chase Taylor when she pulls back, excitable tremors in her muscles. She swallows.

“Goodnight,” she says, slowly slipping from Victoria’s grasp. Victoria’s dreamy little smile confirms that this _was_ the right move, for once. Only Taylor gets to see this. Only Taylor has Victoria, all of her.

“See you tomorrow,” Victoria whispers, and Taylor knows it’s true.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh, this party is gonna be so lame,” Victoria complains as she sits at her desk, dabbing her face with makeup (for like the fourth time even though she was totally and completely beautiful the last three times.) “House parties always just end up with someone calling the cops and then Nathan has to go out and suck up to them while _I_ clean up the vomit of half of Blackwell…”

Taylor’s lounging on the bed behind her, staring up at the ceiling. “So don’t go,” she suggests slyly.

“Tay, it’s the first party of the semester, I can’t just—”

Taylor lifts herself up on her elbows and catches Victoria’s eye as she turns around. She very carefully raises one eyebrow (Victoria taught her how once when they were drunk and Taylor will always be grateful for that) and Victoria’s resolve falters before her eyes.

“We could stay in…” Taylor murmurs. This feels right. Flirting, that is. She can flirt.

“We can be _fashionably late,”_ Victoria corrects.

“Okay, then quit screwing with your perfect makeup and come here.”

Victoria gets up, sighing exaggeratedly, then crawls into bed beside Taylor. Taylor knows by now that Victoria wants to be held when she’s like this, when stress is running through her veins like electricity, keeping her jumpy and tense. Taylor’s arms circle around her waist. Taylor breathes deeply, waiting for Victoria to match the rhythm. A small lesson learned from therapy long ago.

She feels Victoria relax in her arms, and it’s sweet. Perfect. Taylor kisses the back of Victoria’s neck and hears a sudden, sharp gasp. Victoria’s body tightens again, and Taylor can’t help but respond in kind, her heart beating against Victoria’s back.

“You, uh — you liked that?” she says quietly.

Victoria makes a small affirming sound. Taylor squeezes her, thinking, wondering. How far can they go? How far does she _want_ to go?

Victoria slowly rolls over to face her, and once she’s in view Taylor starts to kiss her, because she knows she wants to do _that_ at the very least. It starts easy and gentle, like their first real kiss. Victoria’s hands smooth up and down Taylor’s back, nails drawing designs in the fabric of her top.

Then Victoria pulls. First with her lips, sucking on Taylor’s, moans rumbling in her throat as she pushes their bodies together. Then with her teeth, trapping Taylor’s bottom lip between them, making her head spin, the pinprick of pain offset by the warmth building in her body.

Victoria draws back, just a hair, letting Taylor’s lip spring back into place. “Taylor,” she whispers, rolling onto her back, her arms dragging Taylor on top of her with the motion. Taylor can hardly breathe, one of Victoria’s legs between her own, her hands on either side of Victoria, looking down on her as her arms come up and pull her close again.

Taylor loses herself. Victoria’s insistence intoxicates her. She does what Victoria tells her when she whimpers little instructions like “Kiss my neck,” and revels in the reaction she gets, the sweaty hands clenching on her back and neck, the panting breath and choking sounds when Taylor starts sucking on her skin. She can feel herself grinding against Victoria, almost unconsciously, and she doesn’t want to stop that either, it’s smouldering her nerves in the most pleasant way.

It all fizzles out when the door opens.

Taylor yelps and whips her head around and sees nothing less than the shocked faces of Maxine Caulfield and Rachel _fucking_ Amber, staring slack-jawed at them through the gap in the door. Victoria props herself up on her elbows, face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck out!” she hisses, and thankfully the Wonder Twins take the hint and slam the door closed.

Victoria practically fights her way out from underneath Taylor, who’s still a little bit shell-shocked and woozy. “Fuck, _fuck,_ ” Victoria whispers to herself, her voice breaking as she searches for her phone on her desk. Once she has it, she drops down to the floor, back against the bed, furiously texting as Taylor repositions herself behind her, putting her hands on her shoulders.

“Victoria—”

“Of course, of fucking course it had to be _her_ , why the fuck was she even _snooping_ that fucking _bitch,_ ” Victoria seethes, thumbs rapidly tapping the screen and sending what look like very hateful and threatening messages to a number in her contacts simply labeled “Whore.”

“It’s okay—”

“No it’s fucking not, God, she’s gonna tell everyone, and then my parents will find out and — and I won’t be able to —” Victoria’s breath catches in her throat as giggling starts up outside, unmistakably Max and Rachel.

“Hey — you don’t know they’ll tell anyone,” Taylor says, though the thought starts to sound in her own mind as well, what if, what if, what if. “E-even if they do, who says it’ll get back to your parents? They can’t know every rumor about you that goes around.”

Victoria hunches over her phone, breath faltering. “I—I just—I want you to stay,” she whispers. “I just, I just got you, and I want you to stay, I don’t want you to leave like her, I don’t want my parents to make us break up, I’m…” A sob escapes her, and all Taylor can do is rub her shoulders, try to calm her through the worst of it. Promise that it’ll be okay.

“I’ll stay,” Taylor murmurs. “All night.”

And she does. They skip the party and stay in, though it never gets as heavy as it was before their interruption. They watch _Ponyo_ because Taylor insists on something accessible, and Victoria slowly comes back to being able to laugh and relax.

When it’s midnight and they’ve smoked a bowl and had at least three shots each, Victoria’s eyes flit to the microwave time display.

“You should probably go,” she mutters, looking down into her lap. “‘S late.”

“I said I’d stay all night,” Taylor reminds her, leaning in to kiss her. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

“Mmm.” Victoria leans into Taylor’s side. “Yeah. Shame I got all prettied up for the party though.”

“You’re always pretty.”

Victoria giggles. “You’re always sweet. Sweet T...”

They separate briefly so Taylor can go back to her own room and get pajamas on, get her teeth brushed. They head back together out of the bathroom to Victoria’s room, hands touching but not quite grasping. Just in case.

Once they’re inside, it’s their space. They curl up together like their bodies were made for it. As they pass into sleep, Taylor thinks about how they would’ve handled this kind of thing on their own, before. Taylor picking and scratching at her body in the dark, Victoria drinking away her self-hatred and her paralyzing fear.

Instead, they’re just two warm bodies, unspooling their stress into each other, processing, living.

She’ll take it, any day.

 

* * *

 

They do go to the next party, and it’s better than ever, because they’re _together._ Even if they don’t do anything different, that knowledge sits in Taylor’s head and makes her giddy, makes her comfortable being by her side all night without worrying about coming off as a sycophant like Courtney. It’s easy to dance with her, to touch her, to shoot her looks when they catch each other’s eye. Nothing’s different, but everything is.

It’s not until the party’s winding down and the VIP section is filled with passed-out teenagers that something truly new happens. Nathan’s the last one standing along with Taylor and Victoria, the three of them clustered around a hookah, their eyes red and tired, but not quite ready to go home. Nathan lets loose a long stream of smoke.

“So where were you at last time, V?” he asks, his voice so much softer than usual. Like he cares. Victoria’s talked about how he’s different when there’s no one but Victoria around. Has Taylor somehow passed this threshold, too?

“I…” Victoria glances at Taylor, a quick back and forth, but Nathan notices. He leans forward.

“It’s okay, Vic. I know.”

Taylor and Victoria both blink at that. Nathan sounds exhausted, but he’s looking seriously at Victoria.

“Look, V, I’m not a complete fuckup, okay? I notice shit. Even if you never say it.” He sighs. “I kept waiting for you to tell me last year when you and Rachel were fucking.”

“You...knew about that?” Victoria asks.

“V, I’m your best fucking friend, and like I said, I’m not a total idiot. I know shit’s been weird with us for a while, and it started then, because — well, I thought you were stealing the girl I told you I fucking liked right out from under me. But Rachel is kind of a shitshow, so.” He takes another pull from the hookah. “I got to see my sister over break, and I finally got to _talk_ to someone since you’ve been so bitchy for the past forever, and like…I wanted to talk to you when I got back. But you were hiding out. With her.” He points at Taylor, who shrinks away. “Right?”

“Well you acted like a shithead when you saw us kissing,” Victoria mutters. “Why would I tell you anything about this kind of shit when you pull that?”

“I was just pissed because you keep _hiding_ it from me, and...shit.” Nathan huffs. “She just took my place, and I didn’t know what the fuck to do, and we barely fucking talk anymore and I _miss_ you, okay? I f-fucking…” His voice breaks. “I don’t hate you, okay? I—I don’t. I’ve known for a long time, I just wanted you to tell me but you never did.”

Victoria scoots over to him and lays her head on his shoulder. Taylor remembers the stories of his rages and fits, but they don’t seem to be coming right now. He’s just tired.

“I’m sorry,” Victoria says softly.

“I get it, I’m a shit person, no wonder you’d rather hang out with her,” Nathan mumbles, throwing an arm in Taylor’s direction. “I’ve been so _fucked_ this year, nothing’s normal anymore—”

“Hey.” Victoria shakes him by the shoulder. “We were both fucked. Taylor and me didn’t get off to a great start either, okay? But we fixed it. We can be okay.”

Taylor remembers the night she cried in the bathroom thinking she’d never have Victoria again, and understands, very suddenly, where Nathan is.

“You’re good to her, right?” Nathan asks, looking up and meeting Taylor’s eyes. “Not like Rachel?”

Taylor nods at him. “Of course.”

“She’s really fucking good,” Victoria says with a smile aimed at Taylor. “I’m doing okay. A lot better, actually.”

“Okay.” Nathan hangs his head again and sniffs. “I’m sorry I’ve been like, shitty about the gay thing for a while. I just — like, if you’re a dyke, you’re a dyke, just fucking let me know. I can deal. Like, if you’re good and she’s good, fuck it, right?”

“Right,” Victoria confirms. “Listen, Nathan...some other time we should hang out. Just the two of us. Like the old days. Now…” She sighs. “Now I wanna go home. Don’t you? Been a long night.”

“Yeah.” Nathan stands up. “We’ll sort this shit out in the morning. Like always, right, V?”

“Yeah.” She smiles at him then, genuinely smiles, and he puts an arm around her as she stands with him. She beckons Taylor over, and they leave the gym like that, and drunk and stumbling as they are, it doesn’t feel wrong at all.

They separate when they have to, Nathan heading back to the boys’ dorms, and once he’s out of sight Victoria hugs Taylor close.

“Sorry you had to be there for that, that was fuckin’ awkward as hell,” she mumbles into Taylor’s shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Taylor assures her. “I’m glad you two talked.”

“Me too,” Victoria sighs. “Come back to my room with me?”

“Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

 

They’re falling into Victoria’s bed after another party, Taylor taking the lead, as usual, because Victoria likes it that way. Victoria squirms beneath her, eyes blown wide with alcohol and desire, grasping at the straps of Taylor’s tank top and pulling her close for a kiss. Then her hands travel down, pull up. Taylor leans forward and feels it come free, dizzy with a high that might be described as ‘legendary’ thanks to the brownies people had handed out as party favors. She’s content to just lie there in her bra, breathing heavily, but Victoria’s got other plans.

She fumbles around Taylor’s back for her bra strap, and Taylor would absolutely be lying if she said she’d never thought about this, when this would happen, but she’d always felt it when Victoria hadn’t, it seemed. So many nights curled around her in bed, wanting but not being able to say, not knowing where to start, and knowing Victoria wants her to be more assertive but being paralyzed, but now Victoria’s managed to accomplish her task and she’s just not sure. Taylor’s not sure this is right.

She wants to remember it. She wants Victoria to remember it. But Victoria’s sucking at her neck now, pulling the bra off her chest with her hands, and Taylor’s crying out because it’s firing her nerves in all sorts of directions that she can’t control. Especially once the bra is off and Victoria’s thumbing at her nipples, and _God._

All she can do is hold onto Victoria, try to think, whether she wants this right now or not. Victoria’s hands pull back, resting on her shoulders.

“D’you wanna stop?” she slurs, looking hazily up at Taylor.

“I—I don’t—” Taylor doesn’t want to disappoint her. Doesn’t want to leave her wanting when she so clearly wants so much.

“‘Sokay. We can stop.” Victoria pats Taylor’s back and rolls her off so they’re beside each other, on an equal level, and Taylor’s heart starts to slow.

“M’sorry,” Victoria murmurs, embracing her and snuggling close, head in her chest.. “Just wanted...but...I’m your first, right?”

Taylor nods, feeling a blush come to her cheeks. She should be more experienced, should’ve hooked up with guys or girls or _someone_ before she came to Blackwell, or after, but girls didn’t offer and guys never truly tempted her, and—

“Okay.” Victoria kisses her neck softly.  “We’ll save it.”

“I wanna be sober,” Taylor blurts out.

“That’d be a nice change.”

Taylor’s not sure how to respond to that until Victoria giggles. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s make it special. After break.” She nuzzles into Taylor’s chest. “Sleep now. Stay topless.”

The gratitude in Taylor’s heart is only matched by desire, to be fulfilled another time. Victoria lets it cool, lets Taylor slide into sleep, and Taylor loves her.

 

* * *

 

The week of Spring Break feels agonizingly long. Victoria’s parents trap her in her house, and Taylor has no desire to run with the official Vortex Club trip to wherever. Victoria and Taylor keep up over text, leave the line open on Skype even when there’s nothing to say. Victoria always has an ear to hear her when she needs it, and Taylor has someone to stop her when her tics start back up in the quiet of the house, when she starts thinking of all the ways her mother can still die, no matter how well she’s getting around these days.

Taylor can also see Victoria in her native environment, stretching herself across the furniture in her room in whatever state of dress she feels like being in. Victoria will catch her staring and smirk and say nothing else, because she knows not to push Taylor, knows that that is exactly what pushes her.

By the time they’re back on campus, Taylor’s aching for her. Victoria got back first this time, and Taylor has to be the one to find her first. She practically throws her bags in her room, hugs her mom goodbye, and heads down the hall as soon as physically possible.

Victoria pulls her in as soon as the door’s open, kicks it shut behind her, _attacks_ her, and Taylor sighs in relief. Any other time, any other person, her brain would be running a mile a minute, but now it’s after break, now they’re sober, this a fulfilment of promises made a thousand times in different words. They fall into old familiar steps with the assurance of another movement afterward, Taylor climbing on top of Victoria, Victoria pulling her flush against her chest, the quick and efficient loss of clothing. It takes no discussion, nothing more than Victoria’s instructions, always whispered and always flaring Taylor’s body temperature when she hears them. Victoria is so warm, so ready, so willing, and she never leaves Taylor to fend for herself. She knows what she wants, demands it, until she gives out and her back arches and her arms claw out for Taylor, bringing her close again, panting in her ear.

Taylor rests her head against Victoria’s bare chest, listening to the pounding of her heart. Victoria trails her fingers through Taylor’s hair, fingers tickling Taylor’s neck.

“I love you,” Victoria breathes.

Taylor embraces Victoria, arms beneath her waist, and squeezes her eyes shut to stop the tears. She loves her, she’s loved her for what feels like forever, it burns in her throat.

“I love you so much,” she manages. Victoria’s body relaxes beneath her. How long she’s wanted to hear that, Taylor can’t even guess.

Victoria rolls her over so they’re side-by-side. Her kisses are soft, so different from when she’s begging for Taylor’s touch. She’s shifting, changing, moving for Taylor’s comfort, not her own. When her hand travels down Taylor can’t even think to question it, it’s slow and right, it should be happening.

Victoria pushes her till she can’t feel she can go any further, but the peak’s so far from her. Her shorts are in the way and Victoria knows it, teasing at the zipper. Layer by layer, Victoria works down, until finally Taylor is bare and then she is blissfully ignorant of all the world save for Victoria.

They hold one another face-to-face, and fade into silence and sleep. When they wake up they’re groggy and hungry, having missed dinner, but there’s places open in town this late, if they go. It’s unspoken truth that they won’t separate, not this night, maybe not for any other.

 

* * *

 

Someone _has_ to know, but no one’s saying anything.

Taylor and Victoria may not be making out in public, but their guard has dropped. At parties they’re inseparable, and Victoria’s sharp words never go her way anymore. They return to the same room every night and they’re getting sloppy about leaving separately too.

It hardly makes a difference, and they’re both calm enough to know it now. Max and Chloe are dating, everyone’s been whispering about Kate and Dana being an item, in Blackwell it may just not _matter_ right now. Taylor knows her own mom would be okay. She’s probed a little, sussed out her likely reaction. But she never pushes Victoria, not on this. It’s her parents they both fear, and Victoria’s decision.

Which is why it comes as such a shock when Victoria sits down on Taylor’s bed and asks, “What do we do about prom?”

Taylor blanks. “I, uh, I didn’t think about it,” she admits, rubbing the back of her neck. She’s still adjusting to the idea that she’s the kind of person who goes to prom now. “VC’s putting it on, right?”

Victoria nods. “We are. But I…” She lets out a sigh, looking away from Taylor. “Do we want to go together?”

Taylor looks at her carefully from her desk, trying to stop herself from tapping her pen on her knee. Victoria hates when she does that. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the fuckin’...the whole prom...thing. Not just us pretending to go alone and shit like we do now.” Victoria’s voice wavers, but she pushes through, tries to strengthen it with anger. “I’m sick of this shit. I want to show you off, I wanna take pictures of us in our dresses and dance and — I wanna have a _girlfriend._ ” She bunches up her skirt in her fist. “I...I don’t know if you want that too.”

Taylor feels like melting. “Of course I do,” she says, getting up and sitting beside Victoria, taking her hand.

“It’s just — you never _said_ , and, and I know that’s on me, but—”

“I was waiting for you. I love you. I want you to be safe.” Taylor leans her head on Victoria’s shoulder.

“Safe. Right.” Victoria sighs. “I should just say ‘fuck it’, right? Just tell them we’re together and whatever happens happens. But...but I’m still…” She shakes under Taylor.

“We don’t have to.”

“But if we do, you’ll be okay with it? You won’t freak out and leave if they…” Victoria swallows.

“I’m with you,” Taylor confirms. “Whatever you decide.”

“Okay.” Victoria leans into her. “Okay. Let’s go shopping. If we’re gonna do this, we need _murderous_ dresses.”

 

* * *

 

Taylor checks herself in the mirror one last time. Victoria sure knows how to flatter her figure. Her hands know every curve and angle, and somehow she must just _transmit_ that to the tailors she pays. Or something. All Taylor knows is that this short, dark, flowy dress matches really well with Victoria’s and that she looks like a killer in it, and also that the decision still hasn’t been made.

Victoria texted her an hour ago. _Going to get some green courage. Will text when ready._ Taylor’s had to physically restrain herself from attacking her body, not tonight of all nights. She got a little courage herself, taking swigs from the bottle Victoria gave her for her birthday.

Finally, her phone buzzes.

**Victoria:**

_I’m in the quad. Let’s do this._

Taylor slips her heels on and almost regrets that, because she can’t just bolt out of her room no matter how much she wants to. She wishes, briefly, that she had Victoria’s experience with this kind of crap to begin with.

As soon as she exits the dorms, she stops. Victoria’s on a bench underneath a lamppost, and she turns when the doors swing open. Their eyes meet, and Taylor only barely registers Rachel and Max walking away, in the direction of the parking lot.

She feels like a Disney princess as she slowly steps down the stairs, Victoria rising to meet her, their eyes locked. Victoria holds her close when they finally embrace, nuzzling her head into Taylor’s neck.

“Ready?” she asks, pulling back and fishing her phone out of her bag.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“Fuck it. High school’s over in a month, and guess what? Amber, Price, and Caulfield are all going _together._ We’re already upstaged,” Victoria says, a slightly crazed smile coming to her face. “Besides, I got into a gallery. So parents can take the good news and the bad news and figure their own shit out.”

Taylor kisses her cheek. “That’s the Victoria I know.”

“‘Bout time I turned it on people who actually deserve it,” Victoria mutters. “Now come here. Let’s get some pictures.”

Taylor poses obediently for the pre-prom pictures, already anticipating when they go up on Facebook tomorrow and she can finally tell her mother what’s really been going on at school.

The phones are put away, and they stay close, shoulders touching, hands brushing as they walk towards the gym, tickets clenched in Victoria’s free fist. They stop in front of the doors, looking at David, who waits patiently for their approach.

Victoria takes a deep breath, fingers splaying out and reaching for Taylor. The two of them interlock, Taylor squeezing to calm the both of them.

They walk onward, hand-in-hand, ready to face the consequences.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> _Come on now, try and understand_   
>  _The way I feel when I'm in your hands_   
>  _Take my hand, come undercover_   
>  _They can't hurt you now_   
> 


End file.
